


Ferris Wheel Mile High Club

by ruthy4vrsmoaked



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Hermione Seduces, Naughty Hermione, Porn With Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Shy Draco Malfoy, Smut, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 11:45:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17745326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruthy4vrsmoaked/pseuds/ruthy4vrsmoaked
Summary: Hermione bribes the Ferris Wheel Operator for a special ride on the London Eye.She wanted a very special Valentine's Day...





	Ferris Wheel Mile High Club

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #120 Bribe Ferris wheel operator to get you stuck on the top of a Ferris wheel.  
> Written for Strictly Dramione's Valentine's Day Smut Fest
> 
> My Magzillasaurus was, once more, my beta angel.

 

After three years together, two of which were as a married couple, Draco and Hermione established the tradition to in turn organise Valentine's day for the other.

 

It started just before they got married. She nagged him with how she would love to go here and do that, while Draco kept saying, _we’ll see_ , but in the meantime memorising all the details to surprise her.

 

A week before the D-date or the V-date as they call it nowadays, Hermione told him to cancel all the plans because she had it all arranged, to the tiniest detail.

 

Surprisingly for her, she booked everything he had previously reserved and had to cancel the day after her declaration. When she discovered it, she broke in such laughter that not only forced her to use a discrete scourgify on her knickers but also drew judgemental glares from the neighbouring tables.

 

This was how the V-day arrangement came to exist.

 

Last year it was all fluffy and romantic - who knew her husband could be such a marshmallow - but this year she would introduce him first to the fun of show cooking at the Japanese restaurant, followed by a ride on the London Eye, the fourth largest Ferris wheel in the world.

 

She had wanted to ride this magnificent landmark at the bank of the Thames river for only God knew how long, but he’d always known how to evade it. Tonight, Draco had no escape route. He was going to ride it with her.

 

“Darling, is this dressed up enough? Jeans and a shirt?” He buttoned up the last two top buttons, to see them open again after her fiddling.

 

“It’s perfect, Draco. We’re heading into Muggle London’s West End, not Diagon Alley.” She batted a wandering hand away from his collar. She loved to see him with a tie, but today Hermione preferred the casual look. To be honest, Draco looked good even if dressed in a plastic bag.

 

“You know I’m fully trusting your judgement?”

 

“Relax, what’s the worst that could happen?”

 

“A ride in that gigantic wheel of yours that I don’t trust a bit.” He had no idea how perfectly he nailed it…yet.

 

-oOo-

 

Benihana Piccadilly, located in the immediate surroundings of the notorious Regent Street, was quickly found between all the other storefronts, thanks to the golden queue barrier bollard posts connected by red velvet cord protecting the red carpet, and an impressive light advertising board adorning each store window. Draco admired the interior warily while holding her hand at his elbow.

 

“It looks...nice.”

 

"It has great reviews, the majority say that you can enjoy delicious food and have an amazing, entertaining night." They joined the row that moved swiftly forward. At the waiter's request, she announced, "Malfoy, a party of two."

 

The concept was easy. The bar tables were grouped by two and faced each other, being separated by a passage for the cook, who would change sides while cooking on a large stainless steel Teppanyaki plate. Over their heads, a mushroom-like roof, a wide chimney cooker hood, covering the entire table area.

 

A Japanese server took them to their seats and assisted Hermione first, followed by Draco, in putting on a printed satin kimono; they joined three other couples at their side of the table.

 

“What is this?” He fidgeted with the lapels, “Love, please refrain from telling Blaise I wore a flowery jacket over my clothes…”

 

She broke into a peal of laughter, “The kimono has a function, beyond being in character with the Japanese vibe in here. It's perfect against stains.”

 

“I have dining manners,” He looked offended, _didn’t she know it after three years?_

 

“You’ll see it in a bit. Turn off the scowl please, it’s Valentine's day.” She pecked him loudly on the lips.

 

Their appetiser, a cocktail mix of Yuzu Sake, Yellow Chartreuse and a mist of rose was accompanied by a small plate containing four salmon sushi pieces. "This is raw fish," He eyed the small _Temaki_ cone sushi suspiciously.

 

"If you're not fast enough, I'll also eat yours," His mistrusting demeanour was killing her buzz, and if he didn't change, soon a stinging hex might be sent his way.

 

He tasted, pursed his lips, “Hmm.” Ate the remaining three and looked over at her plate, stealing the last one, which was his favourite, the _Sashimi,_ thinly cut salmon without rice.

 

Shortly after, an older man introduced himself as Andrew and started to make a lot of noise, showing his talent with spatulas twirling.

 

Draco grunted, “Hermione, I’m hungry...” The juggling of cooking tools failed to impress him. But soon, the sizzling of the prawns on the grill plate increased his appetite, the flavours of the seafood smelled heavenly.

 

Preparing the side dish for those prawns was an act filled with twirling and knocking the spatulas on the working tops, or juggling the pepper and salt grinders. It was a whole circus before his food landed on the plate, and instead of smiling, Draco was considering hexing the man and fishing the prawns onto his dish himself.

 

A hand on his thigh, however, distracted him, “Admit you can’t cook like him.”

 

Against her dovey eyes, there wasn’t much he could do, “Love, I’m hungry. My food is staring at me and smells divine. This clown is _torturing_ me.”

 

His words weren't even cold, before a decent portion landed on his plate. Landing is the correct description, the man's aim was perfect. Hermione roared, not only was Andrew quite entertaining, Draco's face was hilarious.

 

At least he ate with gusto, forgoing the sticks after several fruitless attempts to get his goal nicely clasped.

 

It didn’t help, of course, to see that Hermione got the hang of it. Luckily for him, the Japanese server curled a rubber band around the tops, which gave him a better grip. Though, at first, he kept them in his hand, how dare this woman steal his cutlery, even if he couldn’t use it. _Outrageous_ ! Hermione shook her head at his display. _Men_!

 

The egg noodles flew into the air, the stir-fried strips of beef swung from left to right, big acts while seasoning. Hermione followed it with an ear-to-ear smile, Draco grunted. She concluded that her otherwise loving husband became a growling troll when hungry, scrapping a return to this place from her list of repeats.

 

But she knew how to handle him the best. Dropping her head onto her fist, she looked as sad as possible to the complete display before her.

 

“What’s wrong, love?” Draco inclined his head, noticing her mood drop.

 

“I thought that you might find this as funny as I, the reviews are so praising. I guessed wrong...” She might have a trace of Slytherin in her blood by now, _if you lie down with dogs..._

 

“Princess, I’m hungry. All that my nose catches is delicious smells around me, this man is playing with my food… there’s so much I can...AGHH!” Draco recoiled in his seat, looking panicked at the cook.

 

She cracked.

 

Andrew had flamed the stir-fry, a high flame ripped in the air and scared the shit out of the wizard, who hadn’t been paying attention because he was trying to raise her spirits. If she was honest, even she jumped slightly in her seat, as did several others caught by surprise. But, unlike the rest of his companions who broke into laughter, Draco gulped.

 

_Who sets fire to the food, in Salazar's name?_

 

But the funniest was yet to come.

 

Fried egg.

 

The cook prepared a big batch, and everyone aside from Draco looked forward to this part. A few kimonos were tightened closer, just in case. Taking strips of egg on one spatula, Andrew motioned to the first man on the left to open his mouth. With a flick of his wrist, the Asian man threw a strip of egg into the bloke’s mouth. Cheering all around, celebrating the perfect aim. The girlfriend followed but needed two tries before she caught her prize - where the egg landed, was for Draco a mystery. Soon after, it was his turn. Draco dallied and winced. Under the table, a foot found an ankle.

 

Taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth and looked at Andrew, silently warning the man not to miss. The cook didn't.

 

Cheering once more, and all eyes landed on Hermione. Needless to say, this part might have been what she looked the most forward to. Opening her mouth wide, she waited, tears of fun at the corners of her eyes.

 

The strip of egg flew, hit her upper lip but fell between the valley of her breasts. She was the second victim this round. Grinning she turned to Draco, winked and fished the invading piece from between her mounds, dropping it in her mouth. But the cook waited for his second try.

 

Draco, who sported a blush between arousing and annoyance, held up a hand first before covering her bosom next, jerking his chin towards the Asian man. Taking the hint, Andrew threw another piece, which landed perfectly between her lips. Applause followed from both sides.

 

“Next time, I’m the one who gets to pick food from between your tits.” Draco couldn’t avoid the husky tone, this woman had the talent to set him on fire, for the slightest reason.

 

“Jealous much? Of what exactly?”

 

"Your tits are mine to admire, they aren't public property." The plates were traded for a dessert, a deep-fried ice cream scoop. Out of every tasty dish he sampled, this was probably his favourite. Draco devoured it so fast that she fed him half of hers.

 

“I love the food, I don’t like the act.”

 

"No shit, Sherlock." He smirked, knowing by know who the Holmes bloke was. Hermione made him read the entire series of books from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and took him to 221b Baker Street for a visit. He had probably never entered a house with such tight stairs before, but he admitted the townhouse had its charms.

 

-oOo-

 

They strolled Waterloo Place slowly towards Trafalgar Square, down to Whitehall and headed to Westminster Bridge. He thought she was going to stop there and admire the Thames under the moonlight but she didn't hold still. Lazily, Hermione kept guiding him over to the other side, down the stairs and wandered next to the river towards what he now labelled the Muggle Invention from Hell.

 

He didn't trust that thing for a minute, expecting one of its metal supports to cave in and let it roll down into the water at any moment. He ignored completely the fact that the Wheel had stood in its place since the year 2000 and never had an issue until today, five years later.

 

No Magic was holding that thing steady, he simply didn't trust it.

 

However, Draco knew how long she had been pleading for a ride. _It was so romantic, and I want to show you the sight of London from its highest point..._ and on and on she went. Without success.

 

Alas, today it seemed it was the day that he was going to his death sentence. As a lamb walking towards the offering altar, he shuffled his feet, sighing, grunting - probably even praying to her God for some sort of miracle which would allow him to escape the torture.

 

Neither the Wizards or her God bloke helped.

 

The entrance neared, and he accepted his fate. Instead of being pulled, like a dog on a leash, he matched her steps and saw her smile grow. _Oh, well, what you do for your wife…_

 

It turned out that his wife had succeeded in booking a private ride. He didn’t miss the conspicuous wink between the operator and Hermione but attributed it to the fact that she had booked it with the man.

 

The rotation speed of the wheel was so slow that instead of stopping to allow entrance, Draco walked onto the glass capsule while still in motion. Needless to say that his speed was slightly faster than Hermione's upon stepping inside the ovoidal cage.

 

It did move at a snail's pace. Yet, Draco quickly understood the charm of riding this Ferris wheel. London was his favourite city in the world. He had visited Paris, Berlin, and New York, but the English Capital remained his preferred place.

 

The capsule gave them the room to admire the landmarks on both sides: Tower Bridge in the distance, Trafalgar Square from where they just came from, Palaces of Westminster behind the famous Big Ben, sheltering for a while the high towers of Westminster Abbey. By night, with all the lights on, it was very romantic scenery.

 

Hermione walked from the one side to the other, pointing out places, after shoving his head full of little details, “The Wheel moves at zero point six miles per hour, or ten inches per second, one revolution takes thirty minutes to complete.”

 

Oblivious to the fact that all these random details might not interest him at all, she kept explaining, "It counts thirty-two oval-shaped capsules, which can normally hold up to twenty-eight people…" He loved to hear her list like a walking encyclopedia, probably that's why she never held out with him. Her face always sported this light blush of enthusiasm that melted his heart, time after time.

 

Unexpectedly, the whole wheel came to a full stop with a jerk, “Hermione?”

 

“It might be a light malfunction, don’t worry.” She wove his worry away with a hand, staring out the window while she bit on her lips. The operator was perfectly on time with his light sabotaging.

 

“How long will it take?” Out of self-protection, he held onto the railing. His heart in his throat. _Salazar’s tits, this was what I feared the most._

 

“A few seconds? A minute perhaps?” She grinned behind him, rubbing his back with languid motions. “Where’s the Slytherin courage? Didn’t you use to fly reckless loops on your broomstick?”

 

“Woman, I’m in control of the Firebolt at every moment. What if this thing starts rolling away by itself?”

 

“It can’t, Draco.” Standing on the tip of her toes, she kissed him on the neck, reaching with her tongue behind his lobe, a place that had him always squirming.

 

“Love, not now!” Willing or not, her wicked tongue was firing arrows of fire straight into his groin. Arousal fought the panic for dominance but failed.

 

“I have had this fantasy for a long time...” Her hands dove under his jacket, to caress the planes of his abdomen, scratching the hardened nipples with the tip of her nails.

 

“They can see us!” He twisted away from her magical hands. This capsule was full of glass windows; he was into some naughty places, but this felt too open for him. Her fingers returned to their goals, despite his fidgeting.

 

“At this height? We are one-hundred, thirty-five metres above the ground…” Grabbing the lapels of his jacket, she took it off his shoulders, pushing the tails of the shirt out of his slacks next, “There’s this Mile High Club fantasy I want to play out with you for a while…”

 

Arousal was starting to dominate his panic at this point. Her nails scratching his chest and abs, the fingers ghosting over the quickly hardening crotch. “This isn’t really the place, Hermione.”

 

“The Mile High Club, is when two people try to have sex inside an aeroplane...” His belt was loosened up easily, the button and fly followed quickly.

 

Draco offered no resistance whatsoever, but his breath speeded up, and the knuckles whitened, so hard did he strain his grip on the iron bar, "Hermione, not here, please…"

 

Fed up with his whining, she spun him around, pushed him against the glass wall and kissed him ferociously, “You don’t like flying in an aeroplane, so I can’t fumble with you inside of those cubicles they call lavatories.” His shirt got ripped open, the pants only needed a light nudge to fall down his legs.

 

Hermione kneeled and pulled down with a quick and decisive move his silken trunks. His erection jumped proudly free out of its confinement, and she giggled upon the sight, "You'll not escape me now!" Her mouth lashed on his cock with a moan that he felt vibrate till his balls.

 

"Holy Merlin." He sought guidance, looking up at the roof, but turned his gaze back to her and her delicious mouth with her deep red coloured lips, "Love, the man downstairs can get this thing to work at any minute… what will he think!" Draco gulped, breath often stoking in his throat, the sensations of her tongue over his head, or licking that spot behind his balls was driving him bonkers.

 

“He won’t.” Hermione sucked him like her favourite lollypop, her fingers in the meantime playing with her core through the fabric of her thong. She was dripping, a digit slipping effortlessly inside her walls. A second followed swiftly.

 

She got up on her feet, zipped her dress open revealing her little nothing around her hips. “You’re not wearing a bra?”

 

“Glad your eyes still work.”

 

“Did you fish the egg from between your naked tits, inside a full restaurant?” Hermione kept pumping his cock, and he had trouble making the sentence sound coherent.

 

“No one knew.”

 

“Oh Merlin, woman, you’ll be the death of me.” His words were consumed by her lips, as she kissed him heatedly, rubbing her taut peaks against his chest.

 

“Aren’t you going to touch me?” The free hand forced his palm towards her core, “I’m so wet, Draco. Finger me hard, babe.”

 

His brain was shortcutting. Torn between the knowledge that downstairs was a bloke that probably knew what she was doing to him - he was leaning against the window facing the entrance of the ride - and the intoxicating arousal. Her voice and hands were blinding him.

 

But the wetness between her thighs was impossible to ignore, especially when she rubbed her core against his hands, searching for the friction he denied her out of embarrassment.

 

“Damn it, Malfoy. Fuck me with your fingers!”

 

He swallowed dryly, fumbled a little but not enough to her taste and before he knew it, he was on his back on the floor of the capsule, Hermione straddled his hips and impaled herself on the cock she guided firmly with her hand. Both grunted loudly.

 

“My Sex God is off duty by the looks of it.” She rode his dick with abandon, seeking support with her palms on the planes of his chest. Draco could barely believe the sight before his eyes. This was not the wife he knew, this was a horny vixen instead, one that took his senses away and drowned him in pleasure. In particular, when she did this thing with her hips.

 

“Fuck.”

 

“Yes, that’s right, I’m fucking your brains out, Draco Malfoy!” Skin slapped against skin, moans filled the capsule. Frustrated with the lack of cooperation - she was really doing a number on his head - her fingers rubbed her clit vigorously.

 

After a few moments, she felt him palm her breasts and knead them just the way she loved it, “Finally, for fuck's sake!” He grinned against her skin, having pulled her to him to catch a nipple and suck it into his mouth. The other hand sought the valley of her arse and rubbed her puckered hole, making her hiss loudly.

 

She sped up, rising up and down on his cock, assisted by his hands at her waist. The finger kept rubbing her engorged nub, feeling at his hardness and how it disappeared inside her walls. The heat coiled rapidly inside her core.

 

By the loudness of his grunts, his own peak wasn’t far away either.

 

Slapping her hand away, he took over and brushed her clit the way he knew would drive her nuts, with the precise amount of pressure to push her over the edge. Hermione clenched around his erection and felt a stream of wetness flow down her thighs and onto his groin. She moaned, “Shit, I’m squirting.”

 

Fully aroused by her orgasm, he used his core strength to pump into her and ride her waves out before his own peak blinded him, his seed pulsing into her womb with such intensity that it seemed endless to him. A little rougher than usual he grabbed her by the neck and pulled him to her, to demand her submission. “Fuck, Hermione. I’m a fan of your Mile… fuck… High Club.” His breath left his lungs in loud puffs.

 

“Yes, me too.” She felt like jelly in his arms, leaning heavily over his body until her breath came back to normal.

 

A loud noise announced the restart of the wheel.

 

“Shit, Hermione, we must get dressed!”

 

“We have time, it will take ages before we reach the end.”

 

Draco pushed her up onto her feet and started to pull her dress over her head, turning her around to close the zipper. His own clothes were put up in no time, a hand ranking through his hair for some order, before attending to Hermione’s hairdo.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Trying to make us look presentable.”

 

“Well, where’s my thong, then?” His eyes widened, and in panic, he looked all over the place, finding the missing item a corner on the other side of the capsule. He summoned it with his wand and hid it in the pocket of his jacket.

 

“Go commando, for now, we are arriving.” Draco was for once on point, hearing the capsule enter the bay. He stepped out first, pulling her by the hand behind him. The operator had a knowing smile on his face, but it melted almost immediately, following a death glare from the blond wizard.

 

Behind him, Draco noticed a large control screen and added one plus one quickly, figuring out that the pervert had probably wanked while watching how his wife assaulted him.

 

“Wait here.”

 

Hermione giggled, flushed, but didn't understand at first why he returned to the man. Yet, the mystery was quickly solved, by the low whispered _Obliviate._

 

“Oh, I didn’t think of it.”

 

“That’s why you need me, horny wife of mine.”

 

“Just so you know, your jizz is dripping down my thighs.” She gave him a toothy grin, still riding the vibe of pleasure.

 

Life with Draco at her side was never dull.

 

At least, now she could scratch the mile high club off her bucket list.

 

 _Or maybe not_ … she thought with a giggle.

 

The End.

  



End file.
